Pack and Play
by ann1962
Summary: Have you ever wondered what happened to the kids from "The Pack" (S1 BtVs) Well this is a story about one of them.


Pack and Play

Running away from them at the zoo, she felt oddly tender as if her muscles had been stretched and twisted. She couldn't understand her torn and ripped nails. It was if her manicure had been undone after a day of digging. She ran on. Her head ached in time with her pounding feet, and her eyes stung. The lamplights lit her path but she felt the need for sunglasses. It had been shady at the zoo. The lush trees formed a canopy over the exit; the flowers and fruit scents filled the air, made it lush and tropical. Pregnant with weight of the fruit, the boughs hung down as she ran past. The gates to the zoo had been left wide open. She had tripped as she went through the gate, scraping her side. She remembered that. It was a long trek home, her heart was beating fast, and she hoped her mother wasn't there. Her mother's probing questions would not be answered for Rhonda had no clue as to what had happened. She would find Kyle later. _Would he remember?_ She couldn't decide if she wanted him to or not. Rhonda cautiously slowed to a walk; her breathing mirrored her pace as her fear subsided.

A golden shimmer of light shone against her lace curtains as she entered her room. She had always liked the way the curtains looked bejeweled with dried corsages from all of the dances Kyle had taken her to. Each one of them echoed a satisfying memory of an amusing evening. The dappled remains of the light flashed and glowed, reflected on her closet door where the gowns once shed were placed reminding her of those nights long ago. The potato chips from the slumber party several days ago were still strewn on the carpet along with the littered finger and toenail trimmings from the recent, now wasted, manicure that she and Heidi performed for each other. She really must get her sister to vacuum. The carpet was shag, so retro, but it needed too much effort to keep up with the stains and debris left by her friends. She headed to her plush bed and lay down. The pale pink pillows held her head up, her back slightly arched. This preferred angle didn't lessen the sharp pains she was feeling. She never liked to lie flat on her back. The humidity of the evening hung over her bed heavy like dank unmangled laundry forgotten in a heap. _What the hell happened? I don't think I remember anything. Now I gotta change my clothes. Ah damn, I liked this jacket too._ She rested, wrapped around the pillow, her head protected by her tired and bruised arms. The next morning Rhonda woke with a start hearing a slammed door's sound penetrate her skull. _Hungry_. Now she would have to face her mother. The air was still hot and humid so she chose a light linen dress, not wanting heavy clothing to sheathe her. She opened her door to go to breakfast. Her dreams last night haunted her. She had only waif-like slips of memories lingering from them. She remembered images of gladiators circling in a dance with their swinish victims. She inflicted the first slash, blood covered nails, the first taunt of lust. _I knew the wood and the fur_. She remembered holding the spear and the crowds cheering. The stabbing and the hot steaming scarlet blood. 

She heated a cup of consommé and sniffed it. She, parched, felt like she could drink several cups. She took her place in the breakfast nook awaiting the impending judgment. Her mother came to the small table and sat down with her own coffee, black and hot.  
  
She looked at Rhonda with ghostlike shadowed eyes, took a long drink of coffee and put her stained cup precisely in the middle of the flowered plastic placemat in front of her. "Stop clinking that spoon. You know that drives me up the wall. Look at me! I had to talk to the police about you this morning and they want you to give a statement!"  
  
Rhonda swayed her still sleepy head back and forth, following the movement of her spoon in her cup. "What time is it, Mom?"  
  
"Late. Ten-thirty at least. You have a lot to explain, young lady. You are in a world of trouble. Attacking those people in the zoo? Cutting class after the field trip? I've had it up to here with your behavior. I've sacrificed too much and worked too hard to let you throw your life away! No more Kyle, no more "friends", no more going out. You're grounded. Get the hell to school. Now." _What the fuck happened_? Rhonda whispered vulnerably for the final time "Mom, I'm sorry?"

The bell had just rung for lunch when Rhonda entered through the side door of Sunnydale High. _Maybe I can sneak into class and miss the hall monitors_. Rhonda was walking down the hall when she saw that loser, Willow. _Why the hell is she looking at me like that? Boy, I need to find out what happened_. She wondered whom she could ask. As she paced along, she saw several other kids were looking at her in a strange fearful way. She felt the need to run and pounce at all of them as her fear built. _Why am I feeling like this?_ She was passing the library when Mr. Giles confronted her, and he asked "Are you on your way to class? You know you have your meeting later." Shocked by his approach, Rhonda fell backwards against the burlap-covered bulletin board, which announced the next formal dance. "Yes", she conceded, nodding at the librarian. She lunged to escape. She passed the cafeteria where the smells were tantalizingly strong, and she headed out the front entrance. She saw Kyle in the distance. She ran up to him and jumped on his back. It felt good to be out in the fresh gusty air and moving. Rhonda grabbed his hand and aimed him off campus. They would walk to the woods. Rhonda implored: "Kyle, do you remember?"  
  
Kyle looked at her and smiled. His grin chilled her sometimes but Kyle always knew what to do to her and for her. He always said he was the undertaker of their little pack and this always made her laugh. Whether he was teasing some loser or dancing with her, or following her after class, he was hers.

The woods were shady and peculiarly comforting. Time passed as they, shoulder to shoulder, scavenged silently through the woods. The insects buzzed around their heads, like halos of winged sparks. The shadows of the day were lengthening. Rhonda didn't know what to say to Kyle. That grin made her follow; the placental hold he had on her was so inviting. He jerked her hand and pulled her deeper into the woods. She let him take her. Kyle brought her to a large stump, vestiges of a tree's enduring undergrowth long gone, so they could sit. He jumped up onto it and screamed a loud rumbling call. Rhonda didn't know what to think but she trusted him. She remembered the corsage-encrusted lace. He pulled her up, grabbed her head, and said, "Remember!" But Rhonda had to sit down because she felt faint. The world was spinning. She wanted to revel in this memory he had, what he felt, merged with her memories of the dream that seemed so real.

_I remember the tearing of the flesh, the blood splattering and the sounds of bones crunching_. She welcomed these gnawing memories and when she looked back up at Kyle he was staring at her with green glowing eyes. She hugged him and he repeated "Remember!" The rush was explosive and she pulled herself away and ran. Her eyes seared with the amassed memory of what she had done. Feeling overwhelmed and scared, she ran all the long way back home, dodging traffic, over cars, to the place she thought she needed. The images were real; they were hers and now she was alive and contained in the midst of them. Each step brought her closer to the foreign life she once had. She slammed the door and inhaled trying to catch her breath, her rale harsh. It was work and it was grueling. Bent over, she grabbed her head and squeezed. The fullness of this savoring eventually spent her and it gave way to a need to lie down on that pink comforter. _Soft_. Her cavernous room held memories of Rhonda. The old Rhonda.  
  
Moments later, she finally was able to breath. She was calmer now. She felt herself stronger; her strength pulsed. She lay on her side sprawled on the pillows. The room had been vacuumed; the detritus was gone. She glowered at the tangled lace; the woods were so much more hospitable. It was night finally and she felt freed to run. The sticky sap on her shoes stained the comforter, its raw umber glaze the last smear of quiescent exhaustion. Rhonda wasn't exactly sure why she came back but now she knew this wasn't for her. This new calm hunger was so potent that she thought she would rip wide open. Kyle! She jumped up and ran out the door, knocking over her mother, who was in the hallway by the door. She could hear her mother's screams fade as she streaked down the sidewalk. As she ran, her heart thrummed and her lungs inhaled the damp air. Rhonda was faint with her new memories, tasting the delicious horror, stripped of the old, the familiar, like a waking dream that reigned in the daunting forest of her mind, flowing together like dirt and blood and leaves. The sounds from her gut were a thunderous laughter. _Now! Now! Now!_ She was running, screaming and pouncing on and over parked cars. This creature girl did not notice the heavy traffic as it whizzed past. She saw Kyle in the distance running near the woods too. She needed to be with him. She ran toward his glowing eyes. The busy street that separated her from Kyle seemed quiet to her in between the screams of her throbbing eardrums.  
  
The driver of the speeding car, intent on getting home before dark did not notice the darting jumping girl with the green glowing eyes.  
  
Rhonda, battered and mutilated, lay on her back. She wailed to stillness as the green glow faded and ebbed out of her eyes misting into the air above the cracks on the hot bloody pavement.


End file.
